Lessons From My Grandfather And Stone Farm: A Thanksgiving Reflection
Lessons in Entrepreneurship
Every Thanksgiving, I think about Stone Farm Package Store. (Hi relatives who are reading this :)). I started my entrepreneurial journey at 13 years old working for my grandfather’s liquor store (probably, definitely wasn’t legal). I took smelly cans for redemption (remember this way back when) and helped polish the ash from the wood stove off the wine bottles.
I learned the value of customer service, loyalty, trusting your customer, and “small tests” like his brilliant make-your-own 6 pack with all the weird brands. (Super popular, but of course).
He taught me that a life full of meaning and freedom is the true ROI. He taught me that being remembered comes from staying true to you. “Doc” had lines out the door for 5+ hours at his wake.
I’m pretty convinced that retiring accelerated his death.
As I sit here thinking about those days in the store with Grandpa, two things come to mind, first, that the only constant in life is you.
And second, you get to evolve that constant, but your values, your passion, your drive, and the things that formed you cannot be broken.
Trust, Loyalty, and Creating Experiences People Remember
Those hours at the store were more than work. They were lessons in observation and connection. I watched him know exactly what a customer needed before they asked. I saw how trust could be built over small, thoughtful actions. Even the smallest details mattered, from the polish on the bottles to the way he talked to every person who walked in.
Those experiences stayed with me because that was the key: experience. From the wood stove emblazoned on the shirts he sold, to the copper top on the checkout counter, to the dogs that would roam the store including my Samantha, people didn’t walk into his store: it was a destination. People used to HANG OUT at the store and it was expected.
This shaped how I think about business and life. It taught me to pay attention, to care, and to create experiences that people remember because they feel seen.
Every business I have started, every project I have led, carries lessons from that small store and from the example Grandpa set.
This Thanksgiving, I am grateful for those memories, for the smell of polished wine bottles, for the sound of the store door opening and the bell jangling, and for the example of a man who lived fully and authentically. They remind me that life is about meaning, about showing up, and about staying true to yourself.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
